


I Think It's Gotta Be You

by bohemianraspberries



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, second button trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohemianraspberries/pseuds/bohemianraspberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are eleven and twelve years old the first time Kuroo goes on a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think It's Gotta Be You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I haven't written anything in quite a while and I wanted to keep it up. Also because I adore Kuroo and I want him to be happy.
> 
> ALSO I don't know if anyone is still remotely interested in Seven Days, but if you are: I'm really sorry!!!!!!! I promise I haven't forgotten about it, I've just been very very busy since term started and I haven't had much time to write. I'll have a new chapter out very soon - hopefully before Christmas! (If anyone actually IS still reading this fic I love you and I owe you my sincerest apologies.)
> 
> There are **mentions of alcohol/being drunk** in this fic (but they are very mild).
> 
> Title is from Masayoshi Ooishi's song "Kimi Ja Nakya Dame Mitai" (because I SUCK at titles).

They are eleven and twelve years old the first time Kuroo goes on a date. It's with a girl from his class, Fujimoto Honoka, a pretty girl with long brown hair and brown eyes so light they're nearly gold - at least that's what he tells Kenma; Kenma doesn't bother to fact check. They go out for ramen one day after school. Kenma is mildly annoyed because a new game he's interested in is released that day, and now he'll have to go and buy it on his own, but his irritation dissipates the moment Kuroo taps on his bedroom window that night, and when he stumbles in, face pulled in an expression of distate, and declares that he's never going out with Fujimoto again because she's stuck up, Kenma feels a smug kind of satisfaction seeping through him. At least _he_ didn't waste an entire evening with a girl he ended up disliking, he thinks.

"You should have come to buy the game with me," he says, before he can help himself.

Kuroo grins back, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah," he agrees. "Next time I will."

***

The next time Kuroo goes on a date it's early November, a few weeks after Kenma's fourteenth birthday. He's become popular with girls since starting at Nekoma, and there emerges a side to him that Kenma hasn't seen before - one that's preening, and cocky, and tries to impress. He doesn't like this side of Kuroo, but he doesn't mention as much.

To Kenma's surprise, the girl who takes Kuroo on his second date is not one of the ones that primps and simpers and waves coquettishly whenever Kuroo passes by - the ones that go out of their way to try and make him notice them. Her name is Koizumi Emi, and the first thing Kenma hears about her is that she is horrible.

She's a wing spiker on the girls volleyball team, one of the starting players despite being a first year. They meet during a practice session, in the week when the boys' gym floods and they have to share with the girls. Kuroo dislikes her, because she's rude and uncompromising, he says - she complains about the boys being there, she rolls her eyes and flips her silky black hair when Kuroo asks her to practise with him, and she's unbearably smug when the boys are beaten two sets to one in a boys-vs-girls match. " _And_ she spiked a volleyball _right_ into my face!" he tells Kenma. "She laughed! Didn't even try and make it look like an accident!"

"She sounds annoying," Kenma agrees mildly.

"She's awful. Always complaining about us being there. It's not like we _wanna_ practise in their smelly old gym," Kuroo says, and ignores Kenma's point that the girls' gym is probably a lot less smelly than the boys'. 

Two weeks later, Kuroo announces that he's going to the cinema with her. Kenma is naturally surprised.

"I thought you hated her?" he says.

"I... may have been a bit harsh," Kuroo shrugs. Kenma raises an eyebrow.

"What changed?"

Kuroo shrugs again. "She's not that bad."

They go on two more dates, and Kenma meets her once, when he's round at Kuroo's and she calls unexpectedly, but she's loud and kind of abrasive, and he knows it's obvious to Kuroo how uncomfortable she makes him. They must have a very different taste in girls, he thinks - not that he's had a crush on a girl since kindergarten. The thought makes him feel kind of funny, actually. He's not too sure if he likes Kuroo's newfound interest in romance. It feels sometimes as though they're growing up too quickly.

He's kind of relieved when Kuroo abruptly decides he doesn't like her that much after all.

***

Kuroo's first kiss happens in spring. Kenma is fifteen and newly blond, his Nekoma uniform still stiff and uncomfortable on his body, the taste for volleyball still strange on his tongue. Kuroo's cockiness has dissipated, replaced by a quiet self-assurance Kenma likes much better. Kuroo visits him in his classroom every lunchtime, making sure he's not alone, and Kenma is incredibly grateful for that, but he also catches Kuroo sneaking glances at Mizushima Aiko, the girl who sits behind him, on these daily visits. He guesses Kuroo likes her - correctly, as it turns out; Kuroo mentions her in what he probably thinks is a sly and subtle way one day after school, and Kenma can see it in his eyes, that glimmer he's come to recognise as Kuroo's thinking-about-someone-he's-attracted-to face. 

"She's really pretty," Kuroo says, a bit bashful.

Kenma shrugs. "I suppose," he agrees, though in truth he doesn't really have much of an opinion.

"Do you think you could find out what she thinks about me? Like, subtly. Don't be obvious about it." 

Kenma looks up. If he's honest, it seems like a lot of hassle and he can't really be bothered, but Kuroo's looking at him so hopefully and something tugs in Kenma's stomach and he finds himself sighing and saying, _fine, but you owe me for this,_ and when Kuroo laughs and tells him he's the best friend ever he can't help but feel a little bit pleased.

The next morning he asks Mizushima straight out if she likes Kuroo and he immediately regrets it. She wants to know everything Kuroo's said about her, down to the last detail, and relentlessly bombards him with questions all morning. When Kuroo shows up at lunchtime, she near enough explodes. Kenma decides there and then that dating is too much effort, and that he'd rather be single for the rest of his life than like someone that much.

Kuroo shows up to volleyball practice fifteen minutes late that afternoon, earns himself a scolding from the captain, but he doesn't seem to care - he's grinning from ear to ear, and the moment he catches Kenma's eye he pulls a pale pink envelope out of the pocket of his blazer and waves it. Kenma knows what it is, instantly.

The reality of it doesn't sit well with him. He doesn't like the idea of Kuroo's lunchtime visits being appropriated by Mizushima - Kuroo is _his_ friend, his only friend, and the idea of gradually losing him to someone else makes his stomach twist and his hands shake. He doesn't fully understand it, but as days turn into weeks he finds himself disliking Mizushima more and more. It's little things, details that Kuroo would probably say don't matter in the grand scheme of things, things like the way she fiddles with her necktie or the way her eyes light up every time Kuroo struts into the classroom like he owns it. Or the way Kenma's lunchtime visits slowly become _her_ lunchtime visits. 

Or the way Kuroo kisses her, soft and hesitant, under the trees one of these lunchtimes, or the way she kisses him back, late spring breeze pulling at strands of her long golden hair like puppet strings, or the way he pulls away and looks at her like she's the best thing he's ever seen.

Or the way Kenma knows, deep down, that he has absolutely no reason to hate her.

And then one day Kuroo doesn't show up to practice. The captain asks Kenma where he is, if he's sick, and Kenma doesn't know what to say. Kuroo isn't sick. He doesn't have detention and he hasn't been sent home. Kenma can only guess exactly what he's up to right now, and the thought makes his stomach churn. Kuroo adores volleyball - his persistent nagging was the only reason Kenma joined the Nekoma team in the first place - and now he's skipping practice... for a girl?

For the first time, Kenma is really, truly angry with him.

"Hey." Kuroo slips through his window that night wearing a grin like a Cheshire cat. "Guess what."

Kenma doesn't look up from his game. "You're dropping out of the team?"

"What?" Kuroo says, bemused. "Why would I -?" He stops. "Is this about what happened this afternoon?"

"I don't know," Kenma says mildly, fixing him with a stare. "What happened this afternoon?"

Kuroo sighs, weary. "Look, she just wanted to check out this new café, that's all. She was really excited about it," he adds, a bit defensively.

"Whatever," Kenma huffs.

"Hey." Kuroo is frowning. "What's this about?"

"Nothing," Kenma lies. Kuroo, naturally, sees through it.

"Bullshit."

Kenma bites his lip, but says nothing.

"Tell me," Kuroo coaxes gently.

There's a long silence.

Kuroo sighs again. "Fine, don't tell me. That's - whatever. But I'm not gonna apologise for hanging out with my girlfr-"

"I thought you wanted to be captain."

Kuroo stares. "What?"

"I thought you wanted to be captain," Kenma repeats.

"Well, yeah," Kuroo admits. "Obviously. But I -"

"How can you expect to make captain if you can't even show up to practice?" he demands. "What kind of commitment does that show?"

"Oh, come _on._ " Kuroo rolls his eyes. "It's _one_ time. It's not like I'm quitting the fucking team, for god's sake." His eyes flash with something dark, accusatory, and for a minute Kenma is almost scared. "Anyway, when did you get so passionate? I thought you didn't care."

"I don't," Kenma retorts bitterly. "I didn't even _want_ to join, _you_ were the one who made me sign up, _you_ told me I had to stick it out, and then you just go and leave me - I _hate_ you!"

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. He's breathing hard, chest heaving, his cheeks warm and his eyes stinging with angry, barely-formed tears. Kuroo doesn't move, doesn't speak, just stands there and stares at him, hurt spreading over his face.

"You hate me?" Kuroo says finally, quietly. His tone is measured, calm, but Kenma's known him too long to be fooled by it. He's terrified.

Kenma shakes his head, anxiety pooling in his stomach because he doesn't hate Kuroo, of _course_ he doesn't hate Kuroo - he's mad at him, but he's never _really_ hated him, not once. But he doesn't know how to put that into words.

"I don't -" He stops, unable even to breathe, let alone get the words out properly.

Fortunately, Kuroo's always been better at that sort of thing.

"Is it because you were on your own? Because I - left you?"

Kenma nods, unable to speak. He knows if he opened his mouth no sound would come out - but that doesn't matter, because Kuroo's good at voicing the things he can't. Kuroo knows him better than he knows himself.

"I'm sorry." There's a weight on his bed; it takes him a moment to register that Kuroo's sitting down beside him. He feels fingertips brushing his arm, asking permission to touch, and he nods again, and suddenly he's being pulled into a hug, Kuroo's arms wrapped tight around him. He buries his face in Kuroo's chest, breathes in the faint scent of fabric conditioner and sweat, remembers how to breathe properly. He can feel his heart slowing in his chest, as though the proximity itself is calming. Maybe it is.

"I'm so sorry," Kuroo says again, whispers it into his hair, presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I won't do it again. I didn't mean to - I don't want you to hate me." 

"I don't," Kenma says, and he means it.

A week later, Kuroo shows up late to practice again - for the last time - and he stops coming to Kenma's classroom for lunch. They eat out in the courtyard instead, on a bench under a tree, and it becomes _their_ spot, nobody else's. Kuroo's lunchtimes become Kenma's again. Nobody else's.

He doesn't ask why.

When they see Mizushima, a month later, with her new boyfriend, Kuroo gives her a smile and a little wave and goes back to arguing with Kenma about whether Animal Crossing really is a better game than Pokémon. 

He doesn't miss another volleyball practice, ever.

***

Kuroo is seventeen the first time he goes on a date with a boy.

He's a friend from middle school, someone Kenma vaguely remembers but didn't particularly care for at the time. He and Kuroo lost touch after starting high school, but met unexpectedly while on holiday with their families and arranged to meet up after they got back. Kuroo says he has a shyness about him that's endearing, and Kenma is left to wonder why the thought of Kuroo finding anyone _endearing_ annoys him so much. 

Kenma expects him to be as cool as he is with girls, but as it turns out, he's a mess. He turns up at Kenma's house three hours before his date and begs him to help pick out an outfit, ignoring the way Kenma rolls his eyes and complains that he's almost beaten the game he got the week before. He eventually submits, but only after Kuroo promises to buy him the sequel next time they're in Akihabara. 

"Hey," Kuroo says, an hour later when he's finally decided what to wear and is checking his own reflection in the mirror, "um, thanks for helping me with this."

Kenma shrugs. "It's fine."

Kuroo turns and looks at him, long, his gaze full of something Kenma doesn't have the words to describe. "I'm serious. I'm glad you're okay with this. It really... means a lot."

He smiles, and Kenma's stomach flips. Suddenly he's filled with the urge to grab Kuroo's arm and tell him this is a bad idea - not to go on some stupid date, just stay in, it's Saturday night and they _always_ stay in together on Saturday nights, maybe he could even sleep over - just _don't go._

But he doesn't have a clue why he would want to do that, so he says nothing and lets Kuroo leave and finds himself wide awake past midnight wondering what happened - wondering why Kuroo hasn't crawled through the window yet, even though he deliberately left it wide open tonight - whether Kuroo's even back yet. Wondering why he can't stop obsessing over his best friend going on a date.

He wakes at three thirty-eight a.m. to gentle fingers stroking his hair, and the sharp chill of nighttime, and Kuroo smiling down at him with a weird mixture of tiredness and affection on his face.

"Hey, you," he whispers. Kenma sits up.

"What are you doing here?"

"I missed you."

He frowns. There's something really off about Kuroo, something he can't quite put his finger on. His lazy smile and the tang of his breath, his slight dishevelment, the way he didn't even ask if he could touch, the glazed look in his eyes -

"Are you _drunk?_ "

Kuroo grins lazily. "Maybe. A little."

"Gross," Kenma mutters, pushing him away. "Get off me." 

"Sorry." Kuroo extracts his fingers from Kenma's hair as quickly as though he's been burned. "Forget you don't like being touched."

"It's not -" Kenma heaves a sigh. It's not that he dislikes the contact, but Kuroo always, always asks first, and the sudden lack of care sets Kenma on edge. He's annoyed - annoyed that Kuroo woke him at such a stupid hour, that he got himself drunk, that he didn't respect Kenma enough to tell him the truth. "You said you were just going for dinner."

"We did," Kuroo says. "But then he said there was this party and he knew people and did I want to go, and I... I think maybe he only suggested tonight because of this party. But I figured, why not? Might be a good time."

"Did you have a good time?" Kenma asks, a bit sourly.

Kuroo shrugs. "It was okay. I guess."

"You _guess?_ "

"I mean - it was fine at first," Kuroo tells him. "But after a while I started thinking about -" 

He stops suddenly and looks at Kenma, inexplicably chagrined.

"What?"

"You."

Kenma finds himself unable to look all of a sudden, turns his gaze to his bedspread and his PSP, lying abandoned on the blankets. "What about me?" he mutters, unsure if he really wants to hear the answer.

"Everything. Fuck, Kenma, _everything_ about you is so -" Kuroo runs a hand through his hair, breathes deep and heavy. "And I had to come here, I had to get away from him. All the time he was talking - and it's - fuck, _every time_ I'm supposed to be thinking about someone else, I'm thinking about you. Every time I - I was thinking about - and it's so fucked up because I _know_ you don't want me in that way and I know there's nothing I can do about it but I just - I have to - I need you to know."

Kenma can't breathe. He doesn't understand.

"I need you to know," Kuroo says again. "Okay? And I realise - I won't touch you, okay? I won't do anything like that, I don't want you to be uncomfortable. And I don't want you to feel like you have to give me an answer because - _fuck,_ I already _know_ the fucking answer. I just - I love you, okay, _so much_ and in so many ways, and I need you to - I don't want - and, I should probably go, I'm gonna go now, okay?"

He's babbling so quickly Kenma has to take a minute to process everything he's said, and by the time he realises what it all means, Kuroo is gone.

When he wakes in the morning, he half believes it to be a dream, though the fact that his window is shut against the cold suggests otherwise. Either way, Kuroo doesn't ever bring it up; Kenma has to wonder if he remembers at all, but he lacks the courage to ask. They carry on as they always have - the only exception being that Kuroo, true to his word, doesn't touch him much anymore, and Kenma finds himself the one initiating contact more often than not. It's odd, feels intrusive, like he's being too forward, but Kuroo never pulls away, never tries to shake him off when he tugs at his sleeve or slips a hand into his when they're in a crowded place and in danger of losing one another. Once, after he hits an impressive spike during a match, Kenma reaches up to ruffle his ridiculous hair without thinking, and Kuroo looks absolutely ecstatic. His eyes light up, and Kenma catches himself thinking that maybe he _does_ want him in that way. Maybe he has for a long time.

Still, he's careful about allowing himself too much hope. There's every possibility that Kuroo's confession really was just drunken rambling and not years of suppressed feelings spilling out all at once.

He texts Shouyou about it (though he keeps it as vague as possible, given that, if he knew the details, the entire Karasuno team would probably also know by the end of the week), but as Shouyou says, since he's never been confessed to by anyone, let alone his best friend who was drunk at the time and apparently doesn't remember any of it, he doesn't really have any useful advice. So Kenma keeps silent, doesn't mention it ever again, and pretends, like Kuroo, that he doesn't remember. But he carries it with him, carries Kuroo's words - even if that was all they were, just words, nothing more or less - in his chest, in his head, in the tips of his fingers when they touch, and he doesn't put them down or let them go for a minute. Being in love, if this is what it is, doesn't seem all that bad. He doesn't feel full of yearning, no sudden anxiety around Kuroo, he doesn't cry into his pillow like countless pop songs would have him believe. There's just Kuroo's words, and his touch, and his whole being, and it's enough. It's distracting sometimes, when he's all Kenma can think about, when he's in his dreams as well as his everyday life, but he's glad that it's Kuroo, if it had to be anyone. He can't imagine being in love with someone else. When he thinks about it, he never has.

***

When the third years graduate, Kenma realises that it _isn't_ enough. He and Kuroo have been together for nearly half their lives, and the natural progression of their relationship led him to believe that they could stay the same way forever. But Kuroo will be off playing university volleyball in a few weeks, and though he won't be far away - a forty minute train journey at most - he's still going to be further away than he's ever been. He's still going to be away from Kenma, meeting new people and doing things without him. Kenma tries to banish the thought that Kuroo might _forget_ about him, because to forget about someone he's known for half his life seems like a stretch even for Kuroo, but it still lurks somewhere deep down in his subconscious, emerging in recurring dreams where he's standing in a crowded station, chasing frantically after a Kuroo who doesn't appear to recognise him at all. It's these dreams, combined with Shouyou's frantic encouragement over text, that lead Kenma to do what he thinks is probably the stupidest thing he's ever done in his life. He still can't believe it when, at nine o'clock the night before the graduation ceremony, he's sitting at his desk with an envelope and a sheet of paper, trying to find the words to tell Kuroo exactly what he means to him.

After the ceremony the next day, once the second and first years have been let out of class to say their goodbyes, he and the rest of the team head to the gym to find Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai. Lev breaks rank first, charging up to them and lifting Yaku completely off his feet in a bone-crushing hug, while everybody else mills around far more casually, chatting and taking photographs and asking excited questions about university. Kenma hangs back, anxious, clutching his envelope and suddenly feeling like backing out completely.

"Hey, you," Kuroo grins, strolling over to him and ruffling his hair. After months of Kuroo refusing to touch him first the sudden contact startles him, and he tenses up. Kuroo whips his hand away.

"Sorry," he says quickly. "I thought you were okay with stuff like that, but -"

"I am," Kenma insists. "I - I like it," he admits. The words sound frustratingly stupid as soon as he hears them, and he turns away, embarrassed. 

Kuroo's eyes go wide. "You do?"

He nods and tries to fix his gaze anywhere but Kuroo's face - and by pure chance he ends up staring at his chest, the spot on his shirt right where his second button is.

Or rather, where his second button _should_ be.

"You -" he says.

"What?" Kuroo frowns, leaning down to catch his words.

"Your button."

"My -"

"You gave your button away," he clarifies, trying not to sound accusatory.

"Oh," Kuroo says. "Yeah. About that."

Kenma feels his chest tighten; suddenly, it's dangerously hard to breathe.

_Oh. Yeah._

The paper in his hand crumples, the edge of it pressing uncomfortably into his palm. He really _can't_ breathe and there are tears of embarrassment and frustration pricking in his eyes; he feels stupid and irrationally jealous, like he's eleven again and inexplicably annoyed at Kuroo for going out with a girl instead of shopping for video games with him. This is where it ends, he realises. He made a huge error of judgement, and he's about to get shot down.

"Kenma?"

He looks up; Kuroo is staring at him, somehow patient and agitated at once.

"C'mere," he mutters, his gaze dropping from Kenma to his shoes. "I don't wanna do this in front of everyone."

He turns and walks out of the gym; Kenma follows him outside and around the back of the building, bemused, until finally, Kuroo stops in front of him and very gently turns Kenma's hand so his palm's facing upwards, takes something small from his pocket, and drops it in his hand.

A button.

Kuroo runs a hand through his hair, just like he did the night he got drunk and confessed - the night Kenma can't stop thinking about, the night he realised what it was they were both feeling and why he'd somehow managed to dislike something about every single person Kuroo had ever been on a date with. 

"Listen," Kuroo is saying, and he sounds so uncharacteristically nervous that Kenma pulls himself together and tries his best to do just that, to listen to what he says, whatever the outcome may be. "I know it's really cliché and we don't even wear _gakuran_ so it's not even a proper second button but -" He sighs. "Well, I completely fucked it up last time, and I swore if I ever got a second chance I'd try and do it right. And - _fuck_ , I've been in love with you for so fucking long that I couldn't just up and leave without - Anyway." He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "Kenma-kun," he says very seriously, suddenly bending over into a stiff, formal bow, "please accept my confession!"

The image of Kuroo, Nekoma's tall, proud third year captain who's never gone in for formalities in his life, bent over at the waist and putting a suffix on the end of Kenma's name while humbly begging him to accept his feelings is so startlingly odd that Kenma bursts out laughing before he can stop himself. Kuroo looks up, puzzled and strangely vulnerable, but there's an indulgent smile spreading across his features that belies his bashfulness. 

"What?" he says. Kenma shakes his head, still giggling. "C'mon, what's so funny?"

" _You!_ " Kenma chokes out, when he can just about breathe again. "What was _that?_ "

"Should I have _kabe-don_ 'd you instead?" Kuroo teases, but then his expression softens and he's suddenly nervous again. "So, um. What do you say?"

Kenma doesn't know what to say; he thinks he might still be in shock. He opens his mouth to speak, but the only words that come out are, "You remembered." 

Kuroo frowns. "What?"

"You remembered," Kenma repeats. "When you - the first time."

"Oh."

"When you were -" 

"Absolutely shitfaced," Kuroo finishes. "Yeah. I'm, uh - really sorry about that."

"Don't be," he says, and he means it. He's long past annoyance at the nature of Kuroo's first confession, and honestly, he thinks if it weren't for him stumbling in drunk through his window that night he might never have realised his own feelings. He's not _glad_ , exactly, but despite the circumstances he's grateful.

"I shouldn't have - I made you uncomfortable," Kuroo grimaces. "I'm so sorry. I've tried - all I wanted was for you to be comfortable around me, and when I think about it... God, I could have fucked everything up forever." 

"But you didn't," Kenma tells him, somehow finding the courage to take his hand. "You sort of... did the opposite."

"Oh." Kuroo glances down at their hands, loosely entwined, a button pressed between their palms, and then he looks back up at Kenma as though searching for some kind of confirmation - as though he really needed any, after all this time.

"I have something for you," is all Kenma says, remembering the envelope still clutched in his other hand. "If you want an answer - it's in there." He holds it out and Kuroo takes it gingerly, like he's half afraid he's just been handed a letter bomb.

"Long answer or short answer?" 

"Long," Kenma admits. "Really long."

"Can I have the short answer now?" Kuroo wheedles, and Kenma shrugs and smiles and pretends that his head isn't spinning and his heart isn't going a hundred kilometres per hour in his chest. 

"Yes."

Kuroo frowns, still unsure of himself. "Is that yes, I can have the answer or is the answer -"

"Yes," Kenma tells him, breathless laughter bubbling up inside him and spilling out into the cold spring air. "The answer is yes."

**Author's Note:**

> i love kuroo more than i love myself tbh


End file.
